Sometimes the hips of our bodies do not agree.

To each end of the bed we turn to face our

hormones, that rise and fall, fall and rise,

to our hopes and failures we encounter in

dreams and visions. The early mornings arrive

in time to salvage us from the night of silence

when memories and thoughts of the past

become moist with passing dew.

Sometimes we are blinded by the looming sun

as it rises with the intent to fade away our

unfulfilled glories. Our minds wake up to the call

while our feet crawl with loss tagged to our past

On our necks, the glassy colourful necklaces from

Odumase Krobo decorates our future.

Sometimes the day runs rapidly into the night

And sets the tone for breaking hearts

We are all too soon taken aback by this daylight

magic, that hides under the skin of the night

Then there is the outpouring of the disconsolate news

That snags the glee of the heart:

When the woman to the other side of the bed

breaks the silence with a knock on

his functionless manhood.

                                                         ~Geosi Gyasi

                                                                Asamankese, Ghana

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